Life Is A Flame That Is Always Burning Itself Out
by twist3dl0gic
Summary: Why do you want me, Malfoy? I'm broken, can't you see? I can fix it, he promised. You'll be ok.


When Ginevra Weasley was a little girl, her older brother Charlie told her stories about his time in Romania, chasing dragons, having adventures, and traveling all over. Hearing them made the young witch crave excitement in both good and bad ways. Her mother hardly ever appreciated this taste for _morem__oremore_, because it often landed the only Weasley daughter in dangerous situations, or worse, paired her with the twins on their misadventures.

Admittedly, the mother of the Weasley brood tended to feel a small nugget of guilt, because she privately thought there weren't any shining role models for her daughter among her sons- Bill was too cool and carefree, Charlie too adventurous, Percy too tense, and Fred and George too mischievous. And Ron… Ron had been so loyal and funny, but more likely to boss Ginny around.

When he died in the war, fighting for the Order, he left behind a broken hearted family.

Maybe, ultimately, it wasn't her lust for wildness and adventure, but sadness that drove Ginny to leave home. She left the country; she fled to America.

"It's for school," she told her parents. "I'll be back in the winter. Do you know what I could learn in Salem? There's history of our people there! History that _M__uggles_ know about. Doesn't that fascinate you?"

"Ginny, dear, there are universities here you could attend. Or I could get you an internship at the Ministry!" Arthur offered. "Maybe you could be in the Department of Mysteries." (This earned him an elbow in the ribs from his wife. Apparently, it was fine for her only daughter to be doing a desk job within the Ministry. It was not alright for her to be off gallivanting, doing Merlin-Knows-What, and not be able to discuss it.)

Sighing for what felt like the millionth time, the nineteen-year-old woman plopped down into her chair at the kitchen table. "I don't _want_ to be here, Dad. I don't want to work in the Ministry. I want to find something else, forge my own path."

"And what about Harry?" asked Molly.

"What about Harry, Mum?"

"Don't you want to stay here with him?"

Not really, no. Because after the war ended, starting right from the very moment of the defeat of the Dark Lord, the Boy Who Saved Us All spent all his time mourning the loss of his best friend. It hadn't been his fault, but Harry carried on as though it was, and that left very little time for anyone else in the world. Save for Hermione, 'course, but she headed straight for Oxford's private Wizarding School.

In the end, neither Arthur nor Molly could convince (or force) Ginny to stay, and off to Salem, Massachusetts she'd gone.

The building itself was set within the Muggle city, much like The Leaky Cauldron in London. The magic-free backdrop made the whole college experience that much more interesting, especially with different classes in different buildings in different spots all over town. There were very few British wizards enrolled, and Ginny noticed a lesser amount of prejudices among the American magic folk.

Everything was new to Ginny. For the first time in her life, she had a _female_ roommate. Sandra Lynn Wood came from Maine, just a few hours north of the school, and aside from talking _all the time_, she insisted that they do every last thing together; eat, go to class, go to the library, go to parties… Sandra even tried to drag the ex-Gryffindor to a sorority to _rush_. That idea was _Avada'd_ quicker than lager turns to piss.

"But it's a great way to meet people," Sandra begged. "We'll make lots of friends, sisters really."

"I have enough brothers, thank you very much. I don't need anyone else to look after me," Ginny answered tartly, having little tolerance for the over enthusiastic bint.

&&&

It was near Christmas, four months after having left home and about fifteen pounds heavier than she'd been before, when she ran into a familiar face. The redhead had been consumed by studying for finals, practically living in the library, when he found her at a table in a corner with dividers around her to keep from being distracted by anyone or anything else.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?" the drawl came. It sounded mostly surprised and only half taunting, like the voice's owner couldn't bring himself to act as though this was perfectly normal even if he wanted to.

She, however, had an amazing talent for acting, and could answer, "Studying, what do you _think_ all of these books are for?" like just yesterday the pair had been in the Hogwarts library doing this same bit.

He blinked and asked, "Here, in America? Studying abroad, are you?"

"No, it's just that this is the best library in all the world, so I went and got an international Apparition License for the fun of it. _Of course_ I'm studying abroad. I assume that's what you're doing here as well."

"You don't seem terribly surprised to see me."

She looked up from her Magical Theory text, holding his gaze with a bit of a glare in her own. "I expect when you plot to kill the most beloved Headmaster Hogwarts has seen, you don't exactly want to stay in England."

And she didn't seem terribly apologetic about the harsh words, either.

It was the first time Draco Malfoy blanched at something a _Weasley_ said, his face turning whiter than his hair, although he didn't back down or look away. He simply pulled a chair over to the brat and leaned in close to her ear. In a low growl, he told her, "I don't exactly broadcast that information here, Weasley, and I'd appreciate if you didn't either."

But the girl still didn't look terribly remorseful. She dug deeper into his past, reminding him of just how much he lost in the war.

"How can you _afford_ this place, anyways? I thought you lost your inheritance when the Ministry froze all of the Death Eater's bank accounts."

It must have hit a nerve, claiming that the boy was a Death Eater, and Ginny suspected it would; after all, Malfoy _had_ turned spy for the Order, following in the footsteps of Severus Snape, but their government still kept all his family galleons firmly locked away, taken as reparations to rebuild the wizarding world. To add insult to injury, the Weasleys were given a portion for all the sacrifices their family made on behalf of the war effort. A portion of the reward was used to fund this little adventure of Ginny's, but mostly she was here on scholarship.

"You've gotten cruel," he told her quietly. It was a peculiar observation, sort of ironic as _he'd_ always been the bully. He had sought her and her friends out just to tease them, and while she stood up for herself back then, he couldn't remember her being outright _cruel_ before. Especially not after they were on the same side. Especially not when the Order was saving his life.

He stood to leave, but she stopped him with a, "Malfoy." When he looked back at her, she told him softly, "I'm only cruel to you."

&&&

In the semester that followed, Draco watched the girl with surprising interest. He found her fascinating. They had history, yet she pretended that they didn't, and she didn't seem to have any objective at school other than to get good grades. Maybe she was just focused on her goal of becoming a… whatever she was training to be.

Truthfully, he liked having her around as a sort of tangible reminder of the life he lived before. Like a stellar monument of good, showing him exactly why he turned, and even though every chance she got she hit him with a biting remark, he continually sought her out.

He followed her to her dorm once, putting his stealthy spy skills to good use to remain unnoticed. The redhead looked tired, her eyes dark and a little bloodshot like she hadn't bothered to sleep the nights before, but she went into her room for only a second, emerging with a towel and shower caddy, rolling her eyes at something.

He felt disgusting for following her to the showers, but standing there imagining her in the shower, relaxing in the hot water, eyes tightly shut, _praying_ for sleep and so vulnerable and _sad_, made things very hard for Draco. Ginny perpetually kept her guard up, and thinking of her allowing herself to just _be_, while being naked at the same time… There was no choice, he was duty-bound to follow her into the tiny stall and observe the enigma wrapped in a puzzle up close.

Draco whispered an enchantment to conceal his presence, but it failed horribly (or perhaps splendidly, considering the outcome), and when Weasley turned around to find him standing there, she barely reacted.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? This is the ladies shower."

Her hands continued working the shampoo in her hair, frothing the mess and then attempting to wash every last bit out. She made no move to cover herself up, allowing the git to observe the bump of her stomach and the hair covering her sex and her breasts, Gods, her breasts. Just big enough for a handful and with these rosy little buds slightly off center on her freckle-dusted chest. She had freckles _everywhere_, begging the question of how they got there, which only made his trousers that much tighter.

Before he could formulate a response (who could think with _those_ staring at them?), Ginny had all the white suds out of her hair, and her wet palms grabbed Draco's shirt and pulled him toward her. He was much taller than she was, but it didn't really matter that he had to slouch to kiss her. Her lips crashed against his, somehow softly and not too harshly despite how desperately she clung to him.

There in this affection he could tell she only pretended to be normal. He felt how she had learned the origin of magic and the science behind Arithmancy and the many variations of Veritaserum to fill up the spaces left by people she lost. And she kept her eyes firmly shut the entire time, relaxing her shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt as she pulled him deeper into the shower.

Soon they were both naked, and Draco had Ginny pinned against the wall. The water hit his back and splashed around them. It made the floor slippery, and when he tried to pick the witch up, he nearly fell backwards. One arm kept her close, and the opposite hand helped to balance him by laying flat against the wall that Ginny rested against. He used one knee to balance her on, and each time he moved into her, he could feel the skin rip against the tile. It would probably bruise, and would need a few bandages, but compared to the feeling of the youngest Weasley around his cock, the sacrifice was minimal. Each time she gasped or opened her mouth to moan quietly, water would rain into it and make it difficult to breathe, like when she used to swim in the river just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole and couldn't touch the bottom.

In the time it took for both of them to come, girls could have come and gone in the communal bathroom, but Draco was too focused on the upward movement of his hips and the downward stroke of his finger on Ginny's clit. She felt good to him, oh so good, and he hoped she could feel _life_ bubbling inside like he did.

Eventually, like all good things come to an end, he spilled into her, and he could feel her inner walls contracting against him, which only turned him on more. He emitted a low growl, released directly into her ear, and she turned her head to silence him with another kiss. She moved off of him, setting her feet back on the ground while held the meeting of their lips.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered before closing her eyes again.

Draco could have sworn a single tear fell down her cheeks.

&&&

"Do you ever stop studying?" Draco asked from his bed, where he lay naked under the sheets watching his lover at his desk, scratching away at paper with pens.

"If I stop studying, I lose my scholarship," she answered without even looking up.

"It's three in the morning."

"Well, thank Merlin you don't have a roommate."

He relaxed against his mattress, lying on his back and stretching every muscle from his toes to his fingertips. He sighed deeply and allowed his heavy lids to close, slowly falling asleep to the sound of Ginny's frantic writing. She only studied so hard to keep busy, he knew, and normally he allowed her to overwork herself. She ate decently and made time for him, but lately he thought she was too obsessed with the essays assigned in her History class. She hadn't even declared a major yet!

It wasn't until about 5:30 that he felt her curl up to him. Immediately his arms fit around the tiny woman; even with the Freshman Fifteen, she was still the smallest thing he'd ever seen. Draco could feel every rib and had a teeny obsession with the hipbones that so prominently stuck out. The pads of his fingers moved in small circles around the one opposite of him.

"You should take better care of yourself," he said into her hair.

"I'm fine."

"You're working yourself to death."

"I've got to get there some way."

Something in his heart constricted, and he feared that if he didn't pull her tighter, _he_ would be the one who cried.

&&&

That summer Ginny stayed at the Burrow.

Draco wrote her frequently, checking in on her to make sure she was getting enough sleep and eating as she should.

She still played pranks with the twins and asked Charlie to tell her stories about the dragons in Romania. But with each passing day, Draco could see the fire that made her so unique, that made her a Weasley and not just a clone of Granger, get a bit dimmer. He said they're too young for her to be so jaded, and he thought eventually she would have to stop running from her pain.

All summer long, he counted the seconds until they were back at school together.

&&&

Around Christmas time, Draco began to notice his girlfriend getting progressively worse. Ginny hadn't slept in a week and a half, and she lost more than the fifteen pounds she gained the previous year. There were always dark circles under her eyes, and it often made her look more bruised than tired. Many-a-time he tried to bug her about her health, and each time she brushed him off.

"If I recall correctly, when you were staying at the Order's headquarters, you refused food for an entire ten days. Didn't shower for longer than that, too," she reminded him.

Damn her and her impeccable memory. It was true, during his stay at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Draco had looked a little like death. He'd grown up a skinny boy, but being a spy seemed to take any bit of fat off him, leaving him as skin and bones. He let his hair grow mangled and didn't bother to wash it. He felt dirty all the time, even when he was cleaner than God, and so he let the grime build up on him as a sort of protective layer against the world. And as if his appearance wasn't horrible on its own, the scowl permanently etched into his features made the bloke completely unapproachable.

Except, of course, to Ginny Weasley. She was too full of Gryffindor Bravery to let the prat sit around and sulk. She forced him into a tub to clean his hair. She forced bowls of beef stew down his throat, with large chunks of meat and potatoes and even a few dinner rolls, too. She forced him into decent clothes that weren't stiff from dirt and into a bed with soft welcoming sheets.

They didn't become friends then, that would have been far too trite, but he always thought they parted ways as amicably as possible, given the situation. The door always open to one another, so to speak, or a shoulder to cry on if either needed it. He should have known Ginny would never take advantage of a Malfoy, but it was about time he returned the favor she once performed for him.

It's Draco's turn to do the saving now.

&&&

It was a long process filled with lots of fights. Tearing the girl away from a textbook usually resulted in one of her infamous Bat Bogey Hexes. Occasionally he hid anything educational from her completely and forced her to do frivolous things with her ex-roommate Sandra. He put her in social situations she couldn't run away from, watched every morsel of food that went into her mouth, and monitored her sleeping habits as if it had been an assignment for a class; if she didn't get at least eight full hours a night, he dosed her with a sleeping draught the following evening.

Now and then Ginny picked at old wounds of Draco's, he suspected because she was too hurt to confront her own demons, and taunting his put them both in a miserable state.

"We can't be together forever," she told him one evening in the dining hall between bites.

At first his only reaction was to furrow his eyebrows together. Slowly, he asked her, "Why not? Aren't things going alright?"

She shook her head, causing a few frizzy tendrils to fall out of the tie she used to pull her hair back. "You just fancy yourself in love with me because I'm a good fuck. But you can't bring me home to Mum or Dad, so it won't work out, you see." There was a second of silence where she looked like she wanted to add something else, and then, "I can't bring you home either. No one in my family would approve of me dating Harry's childhood enemy."

Draco didn't want to cause a scene, but at the time, he couldn't help the "Fuck, Ginny" that came from his lips. Immediately he stood and walked away from their table, not particularly caring if his girlfriend was about to do something self-destructive again. Surprisingly, she followed him, not yet done with their conversation.

"Why do you want me, Draco? I'm _broken_, can't you see?"

He turned to face her and grabbed her hand. Before Ginny could really process anything, she felt her face crash into her boyfriend's torso and his arms wrapped so tightly around her, she would have sworn the amount of oxygen getting to her brain had significantly decreased.

"I can fix it," he promised. "You'll be ok."

With all her heart, Ginny really believed him. He already changed her for the better in so many ways.

&&&

"You're coming to Christmas dinner, aren't you?" she asks.

It's been years since they've started seeing each other, and Ginny is doing better now, but Draco has only recently started attending Weasley family events. He figures he has to face the rest of the Weasleys eventually, if he wants to spend the rest of his life with one.

"So that your brothers can kill me? I don't think so."

Smiling, she pushes the hair out of his eyes. "Draco, dear, if they kill you, I shall simply have to follow. Besides, I'm smarter than they are. And you're not so evil anymore, are you?"

"Will Potter be there?"

"Most likely."

He scowls and sort of pouts. Ginny thinks it's sexy. "If he's rude, can I curse him?"

"Of course."

"And you'll stick up for me?"

"Absolutely."

He agrees to attend the family dinner. Because really, her wanting him there is proof that she loves him. And that's the best damn thing.


End file.
